what you are is a daydream
by betweentheraindrops
Summary: RM. Post 3x25. He finds that the truth is overrated anyway.


A/N: This is supposed to be two sides of reality for Ryan, and came from my wanting a balance of him dealing with Marissa's death and then the opposite of her having gone to Greece. The sections could've worked as drabbles but I wanted them to be connected. Apologies if the sections don't make sense at first, I wrote in a strange order and wanted to try something ~new.

Title comes from "Stay Beautiful" by Taylor Swift. Reviews are love.

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No one understands how he feels days after the accident.

Physically and emotionally, he hurts all over. He's numb, or at least he wants to be. The meds he's on aren't strong enough, he knows. His entire being hurts. He keeps reliving the crash over and over in his mind and he can't, he can't relive Marissa and blood and false hope and everything else in between. It's all too much. Lying in the hospital bed assigned to him, in the room all his own, Ryan allows sobs to escape his lips when he's alone. He remembers her and _whoever you want me to be_ and _every day_ and _except maybe Oliver_. He remembers his eyes meeting hers and looking back to her as someone drove him away. He keeps looking at the empty bed a few feet from him, keeps telling himself that she should be there, healing wounds and sharing stories with him as they relive the crash together. How they made it, together; how it all made sense.

But he can't stop. He can't stop thinking of what could have been and how the taking of her life took his as well.

If he shuts his eyes tight enough and ignores the beeping of machines and various sounds around him, he can still hear her voice, telling him that she'll stay in touch. He hangs on to that, despite what he remembers and what people tell him. His subconscious tells him that she's away, far away on a ship, that she'll come back to him, eventually.

He finds that the truth is overrated anyway.

.

 _The first person Marissa calls from the ship is Summer and he tries to pretend as if that doesn't hurt a little._

 _He hears the news from Seth; that she's alright, that she loves it, that she's so happy she decided to do this. And he's happy for her, he is._

 _Summer relays their entire conversation to him when she's sitting at her desk in her dorm at Brown, that Marissa's phone fell into the Pacific and it took her months to get another one and another few months to get an international calling card. Ryan nods to Summer over the phone, putting one of his textbooks on his bed at Berkeley. She tells him all about Jimmy and manual labor and he frowns because he wishes this was told to him by someone else._

" _She misses you, you know," she tells him, judging his silence from the other side of the phone._

 _Ryan's breath catches in his throat, and what is he supposed to say to that, anyway? He sits on his bed, closes his laptop next to him, and heaves a sigh. Shouldn't Marissa tell him that herself too?_

" _Hey," Summer gets his attention. "Atwood, don't tell me you don't think that means something."_

" _I didn't- I don't."_

" _Okay, well, I have an English paper to write, so why don't you mull that over and call me back," she says and Ryan can't really think properly before she hangs up on him._

 _He thinks about Marissa and how much he wishes he could call her, but her leaving is on her terms and if she wants to talk to him, she will. Ryan wants to say so much, but he's never really been able to convey his feelings very well. They all know that._

 _So he dials Summer's number and she answers with a drowned out, "Yes?"_

" _Hey, just- uh, tell her I miss her too."_

.

He cries.

He cries when he's in the hospital bed, flipping through their stupid channels, remembers how she'd sometimes do that in the poolhouse. She could never settle on one, always determined to find something better. He wondered if she'd model her life on that as well, always worrying she'd finally come to her senses and dump him in favor of someone who could offer her something, someone bred from her world. At least he thought that in the beginning.

But that wasn't Marissa, not even close. Marissa would give up on the channel search, stopping at a local college architecture lecture, snuggling up to him, telling him she hoped he liked it because _I'm only sitting through this for you_. Ryan would kiss her temple and thank whatever it was in the world that brought her to him.

He cries when he has to eat the horrid hospital food. It's ridiculous how it hits him, gets a slice of chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and chocolate pudding, and merely nods at the nurses who spew stats and ask him questions he cares nothing about. Ryan saves the pudding for last, nearly choking on his own sobs when he remembers a candy striper outfit and a tray in her hands, waiting for her to finish distributing them to patients on a rainy October afternoon when she and Summer were feeling charitable.

Summer comes in when his hands are on his face and her face is stoic until she sees him. She eyes his tray and in a moment, she picks up the fucking pudding cup and tosses it in the trash bin in the corner.

Ryan looks up, grateful.

They share a glance and they both can't take it, holding in feelings for their girl, by themselves. They know they can't.

She leaves the room.

He wishes he could leave with her, maybe the pain is most bearable in here.

He cries again because he knows that's not true.

.

 _She comes back, and Ryan kisses her at baggage claim._

" _Hey," she says, breathless._

 _Her arms come around his neck, and she relishes in the feeling of being in his arms again._

 _Ryan adjusts his hands so they rest on her waist. They're still holding each other, and he loves being able to touch her after all these months. "Hey."_

 _Marissa kisses him again, and his arms encircle her, nearly lifting her up. Their lips part, and they try to move out of the way for her fellow passengers to pass. It's clumsy and Ryan would usually be easily embarrassed, but she's the only thing he's looking at._

" _I missed you," she mumbles against his skin, and his hands feel so strong and safe and like home._

 _Ryan holds her hand as they wait for her luggage and doesn't let go until they walk outside and she stops to light a cigarette. She holds it tentatively out to him to share, and his smirk grows by the second when he takes it and inhales, taking him back to the beginning._

 _He's supposed to take her to a surprise party at the Cohens, but her flight came in early and he wants to spend as much time alone with her as they can, so he drives her to her favorite lifeguard stand and watches as her eyes twinkle when she realizes where they are._

 _She pulls him against her and kisses him against the creaky wood of the lifeguard stand, his hands tangling in her hair. It's messy and frantic, reminding him of their early days, but it's them. She gives him a sheepish smile, whispers_ God I missed you, _and he repeats it to the hollow of her throat._

 _She settles into his arms later, and wistfully relaxes after so long. His chin sits on her shoulder, listening to the waves in the distance and her content breaths._

 _Marissa smiles against the setting sun, and he takes a mental picture of it, the smile that comes easy and the dawn of a new day._

.fin.


End file.
